


Grief

by Spencil



Series: Dream SMP but make is Sad [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: A take on Wilbur's death, Child Loss, Grief/Mourning, I Made Myself Cry, L'Manburg Festival, My First Fanfic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sadza, Techno is a good friend, i made my beta cry, sad Philza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28748790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spencil/pseuds/Spencil
Summary: Phil had a very small list of moments in his life that could make his “worse days ever” list. But today made the top of that list and then some.
Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Dream SMP but make is Sad [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191413
Kudos: 39





	Grief

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing fanfic, let alone posting anything publicly.  
> I would appreciate any feedback in the comments, or you can just yell at me for making you cry :)

His hands shook as he clutched the figure in his arms. Vaguely, he registered someone yelling his name in shock from the distance. He couldn’t bring himself to care though, even as he heard the distinct sounds of a Wither coming closer. Part of him wanted it to find him, to blow him up with the rest of the county. But it grew distant again, leaving him to his sorrow as tears fell onto the body in his arms. The body of the one he killed. He regretted it, but he also knew if he hadn’t done it someone else would’ve. And if that had happened then he would have ignored their last wish. Wilbur’s last wish.

Phil shook with silent sobs, he didn’t know how long he stayed there. Even after the fighting was done. A few people tried to speak to him, Tommy and Nikki among them. He didn’t listen, instead he just covered himself and the cold body from view with his wings. They hurt now, having been burnt from the explosion. He didn’t care, it compared little to the pain in his chest. It sat heavy in the pit of his stomach. 

A few moments after they had given up, or maybe hours judging by how cold the body was, he felt eyes on him. He didn’t need to see who it was. Patience, unlike the others who had attempted to thank and praise him, he was met with a rare patience and sympathy from the pressure of the gaze on his back. He heard them walk over, careful of each step before he felt a hand rest against his back. He glanced up at them with eyes red from tears, but dry as his body had no more to give.

“Techno-” his voice broke, sore from his crying. More sobs threatening to spill from tearless eyes. “I-”

He was cut off as arms wrapped around him, careful of his injured wings and the boy that was still in Phil’s arms. “C’mon Phil,” he spoke with a softness most didn’t think the other capable of “We should bury him,” it hurt to hear it. Tore at his already broken heart, but the other was right. He needed to bury him, make a grave. He deserved it, as much as the others had seemed glad for Wilbur’s demise. He deserved a grave.

Gentle hands of his old friend helped him gather the boy up. He guided him out of the ruins of what was once L’manburg, took him to a stable of horses, helped him settle onto a horse with Wilbur. A calm voice reminded him of how to ride, having been so long since he had to. He led him, on his own horse, away from the wreckage. Away from prime path, and the people that called the area their home. They traveled for hours, miles away from the civilization that had forced Phil’s hand against his own son. 

They found a field, with a gentle wind blowing and a calm river not far away. Flowers filled the land around the hole they dug. Phil, with all the gentleness in the world, layed the bloody body into the hole. He looked over the smile on their colorless face. At least he was smiling, it brought a sick sort of contentment to him. There wasn’t anything else he could do, so finally, after hours of tears and heart wrenching grief, he released his son. His sweet son, who enjoyed singing till his voice was sore, and talking for long hours about his hate for anteaters. It was all too much and not nearly enough at the same time. 

He stood aside as Techno filled the hole and fought against the new tears that had found a way to form in his eyes. They fell from his eyes anyway as the hybrid brought Phil into another embrace. A warth that helped fight the cold he felt in his body, a grounding force against the numbness that threatened him now. He would head back to greet the others tomorrow, but for now he mourned. Later he would decide to build a home here, a separate place from where he would later stay in New L’manburg. A place just for him, and the little grave decorated for his son. But for now he allowed himself to Grieve in his friend's arms. Everything else could wait.


End file.
